The Prancing Pony
by jkhan
Summary: More than a few stories of a sort of bar/club that was named after the inn in Bree... Including Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Glorfindel, Legolas, Thranduil, Celeborn, Gil-galad, Haldir, etc.


A/N: SLASH is contained, though nothing explicit. The rating is merely for extensively excessive alcohol use.  
  
The Prancing Pony  
  
The small building on the outskirts of town looked very much like a run down junk shop of Men. On the inside, however, it was woven with so many silencing spells (by Gandalf) that one's head would spin trying to count them. The music blasted so loud that many an inexperienced Elf would pass out at its sheer volume. And the drinks served were for no amateurs; They were the most fiery drinks anyone could cook up. Not to mention that no other club could attract more important and well-known patrons! Among the most common were the Prince and King of Mirkwood, The Lord and March Warden of Lothlorien, and several Lords of Imladris. Also sighted, though not as often, was even the High-King of Elves! Yes, the combination bar and club had a good reputation. Elves from all over would come to the Prancing Pony (named after a popular bar in Bree) to drink, laugh, get their pointy ears knocked off, and essentially have a good time.  
  
=ONE=  
  
The beautiful, slender blond Elf entered the membership-only legendary PRANCING PONY, his bright blue eyes sweeping across the club, wincing as his delicate ears received the brunt of the pounding music. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized an Elf sitting in a corner booth, sipping a drink, also searching the club patrons. He was also alone. He was also being eyed by several Elves. The blond Elf decided to go to him before any Elf made their move. "Glorfindel!" he greeted, sitting across from him and also managing to give him a hard clap on the back. The recipitant of the eager greeting looked pleasantly surprised, if not distracted. "Oh. Prince Legolas. How nice, as I sit here all alone tonight." "Alone! Glorfindel, don't tell me you cannot find anyone that would come with you!" Legolas was taken aback. Glorfindel had always struck him as attractive, though he had never really considered him. "Sweet Iluvutar, when I came over here I saw some Elves ogling like-," "No, Legolas, that is not it. I could have easily asked Peredhil to accompany me, though he has become more secretive lately." Glorfindel sipped his drink, then made a face. "No. The thing is," he dropped to a low murmur, so Legolas had to strain his ears to hear over the music, "I have not the courage to ask the one that I wished to." The music ended. Deejay Pippin put on another song, just as loud as the first. When Glorfindel's words finally registered, Legolas's jaw dropped. "You killed a Balrog," he said simply, blinking at the older blond Elf, his head feeling blank. "Nay, that is a different courage!" He shook his head. "Also, I was completely dotty when I pursued that thing, I was blinded by the thought that perhaps Idril had not cleared the mountain peak in time." Glorfindel sipped his drink once more, and sighed, brushing back strand of blond hair. "Pity for Ecthelion. If only he also did a Glorfindel." More of the silence. Glorfindel mixed his drink, and downed it. "Then again, Ecthelion was not my most favorite Elf either, he was the most hateful snob." "Well I do agree with the dotty part," said Legolas as if in deep thought, "Except I believe it to be all the time!" He ducked as Glorfindel growled and swiped at his head. "No, no. Who did you intend to ask?" A sort of dreamy smile spread over the Elf Lord's features. "Oh," he said in a quiet voice. He motioned for Legolas to lean close. Legolas did as bid. "Gil-galad."  
  
Not only did Legolas's jaw drop, but his eyes also bulged. He leaned back, goggling at Glorfindel's slightly flushed face. "Gil-galad!? High-King Gil-galad?!" For Elrond had made a request to the Valar, asking them to return Gil-galad to the living. And the Valar had listened, as they had listened to Earendil, his father, so long ago. All Elves respected the High-King even more so, and the club patrons often hushed when Gil-galad made an entrance. "Sweet Eru, Legolas! Quietly! I would not like it if the whole of Middle Earth knew of this!" "But Glorfindel!" Legolas had not yet mustered courage enough to speak to the Noldor Elf, though his father had done so on occasion. Glorfindel scowled, rather ungracefully for an Elf. "If you must know, I spoke with Gil-galad before many times, after he arrived back here, and it was a rather meaningful conversation, so I do not have any problem speaking with him." ".Oh." Sometimes Legolas had the impression that the seneschal of Imladris could read minds, not unlike Lady Galadriel. "I just do not know how to approach this matter!" Glorfindel said, "What am I to say? 'My Lord, I request your presence at the Prancing Pony this night'? It sounds excessively formal. And it would be improper of me to speak any other way, to the High-King of Elves." Glorfindel looked downright miserable. Legolas looked thoughtful. "I think perhaps you should have a drink, at the very least." Glorfindel looked from his drink, to Legolas, to the bar. "Perhaps you are right, Legolas. I think I should feel better after a drink." A bit gloomily and dejectedly, he followed Legolas to the bar. "Mae govannen Boromir, two Screaming Ringwraiths!" said Legolas to the bartender, who smiled and nodded simply because he did not understand the Elvish. Though the club patrons were all Elves, the staff, owner, and employees were not. In this case, the bartender was a Man. "Two Screaming Ringwraiths," repeated Boromir, and bustled off to get their drinks. This surprised the Elf Lord, and he seemed to turn pale. "Screaming Ringwraith? I- I do not think I could." Legolas ignored this statement of doubt and instead hollered "Happy cups," at Boromir's back. For Screaming Ringwraiths were the most expensive, and most lethal, drink in the Prancing Pony's repertoire. "I think one of these might put you back up."  
  
With a smirk, Boromir gave them each a glass of the potent alcohol. He gave Legolas the look that meant 'Free alcohol'. The Prince had some nice connections at the bar. "Thanks Boromir." The two returned to the booth. Glorfindel stared at the Screaming Ringwraith. "It looks vile, but it cannot kill me." Picking up the glass, he took a mighty gulp. He winced. "For such a happy cup, it is quite vicious." The plastic tumblers was imprinted with pictures of One Rings, Hobbits, Vilya, and Nazg-ul. Legolas sipped at his own drink delicately, quickly enough however. He looked up at the hole cut in the roof of the club. "The hour grows late, Gand- Glorfindel. I must leave now. My father would be angry if he learned I was out this late." "Very well, Legolas, if you must," said Glorfindel, suspicious that the unfinished name was 'Gandalf'. They both rose, embraced briefly, and Legolas swiftly exited the club. "Do I really look that old," murmured Glorfindel to himself as he sat down once more, and resumed sipping the Screaming Ringwraith in its kiddy cup. "What a nice Elf he has become, I notice," he said softly, once more to himself, twirling a lock of blond hair around a finger. "To think he ibit/i me when he was a little infant Elfling." He shivered, remembering the sharp, white teeth clamped on his wrist, Thranduil and Elrond nearly playing Tug-o-War to detach the two. And he had not done a thing to aggravate him! "I am glad that he does not bite me any longer, for it would take far more than Elrond and Thranduil." Finishing his drink, he decided to also take his leave, seeing no one else he knew in the club. He left a tip for Boromir at the bar, and left as deejay Pippin put on a slow number, and simultaneously avoided being asked to dance. 


End file.
